Five Friends Finding
by Divide Zero
Summary: When a girl with the power to open portals to other worlds is kidnapped by an enemy of Disney Castle who plans to use her powers to further his own ends, only a group of youths from our own world can stop him.
1. Chapter 1

KH: The Other Side, The Other Story

By Ethan Goodrum

Chapter 1: The Lucky Rabbit

Claire sighed.

She had gotten the dog's ball stuck on the roof again, and he was impatiently barking at her to get it down.

"I _told _you, I can't _get _it down," she scolded at the golden retriever. "Not without a ladder, anyway—and you and I both know Dad would never let me use one of those alone."

Too bad both he _and _Ethan, her older brother, were away attending a horror author's book signing. Something she had _wanted _to go to, but been unable to because her father had never allowed her to read the novel the author would be discussing—though she may have been the most avid horror fan in the family. Why of all people had _Ethan _gone, anyway? He was the total opposite, not even daring to watch the films that she, a full four years younger them, rushed to every time they entered theaters.

And Rex was still barking.

"Would you shut _up_?" Claire demanded. "I can't get the ball, not without a ladder, and the only other way is—"

But no. Claire cut herself off—that was off limits as well. The ladder was child's play compared to the trouble she would be in if her parents, much less her brother (who was the only one in the family who seemed to be able to understand it in the first place, though not why it existed) found out she had done _that_. That was off-limits, strictly—and she would be beyond dead if they ever found out that she had done it.

_If _they ever found out.

Why should they, anyway?

Claire looked right and left.

There was nobody around, not a soul in sight.

She glanced back up at the ball, then down to Rex again, still impatiently barking at her to retrieve it for him—even though the word _retrieve _was a part of _his _species' name, not hers.

_Oh, well_, Claire thought. _What my parents don't know won't hurt 'em_.

Claire squinted her eyes, narrowing her focus on the ball lodged in the gutter at the base of the roof. She concentrated, hard, and the ball began to wobble slightly. Not from a passing breeze, mind you—for the air was unusually flat for the late October that usually brought winds bursting across the landscape surrounding Claire's home.

No, the ball was moving because of something else.

Something else _entirely_.

The wobbling continued, accelerating and growing more violent in its movements. Soon, the ball began to sink lower into the gutter, as if some unseen force was pushing it down, wedging the rubber sphere into the thin metal.

But Claire knew better.

She knew it wasn't being pushed, but _pulled_.

And in a matter of seconds, the ball had disappeared from sight.

In a second more, it was in her hand, having dropped out of a bluish portal—a seam in the fabric of space and time that Claire, of all people, had somehow figured out long ago how to open. With a blink, she closed the hole, and the space where it had once been looked as if nothing had ever been there at all.

Little did Claire know the same would soon happen to her.

For the seam _hadn't _closed entirely. A single small, dark, curved protrusion stuck out at such an angle that Claire had been unable to notice it.

Instead, she walked away from the spot with a satisfied smile on her face and threw the ball back to Rex, who chased after it happily. But as Claire's back was turned, the claw pushed farther into this world, widening the seam Claire thought she had closed.

Soon the black blade was joined by a full set of equally dark claws, and beyond that came an arm. After Claire had thrown Rex's ball to him the fourth time, the whole body pushed out—a small rabbit, though unlike any that anyone had seen outside of a cartoon.

This one looked out of place in this hard, physical world—his limbs seemed almost fluid, lacking any joints. His skin was jet black, and showed no signs even of fur. The rabbit's face, however, was starkly in contrast to the rest of his visage in its ghostly pallor.

This being had never actually spoken before, though he knew that other beings did. However, that made his first words no less of an alien experience for him—though he did enjoy every second of it.

"Hello, my dear," the black rabbit said.

With a whirl, Claire found herself face to snout with the cartoon creature. What would have been a scream of surprise became a muffled _Mmmughmf_! as his hands clapped over her face, though there would have been nobody to hear her wail anyhow. Nor anyone to watch the oddity that was the rabbit drag her, screaming silently, through the portal she had inadvertently left open, and into another world.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Duos: Halloween Happenings

"So, what we going to do for Halloween?" Ethan inquired, his usual grin hidden behind a mask with a slightly more sinister facial expression.

"Oh, probably the same thing we do every year—if you can come up with another excuse to decorate the neighborhood with toilet paper and shaving cream," replied Amber, turning the page of her book, eyes lazily drifting across the dreary English homework she had been assigned over the long weekend. "Honestly, I don't know how you guys get away with it every Halloween—"

It was as she was finishing this sentence that Amber made the mistake of turning her head to face the inquisitor, coming face to face with a bloodily massacred piece of flesh that resembled a face just enough to cause her to scream.

Ethan fell backwards on the floor, rolling with laughter, and the others in the room couldn't help but join in. The mask was indeed a masterpiece of horror, bought from the book signing of a horror author Ethan had just been to. He had said to the others before they arrived at Amber's house that the mask was the only reason he had gone to the event with his father in the first place, as they all knew he hated horror like the plague.

But he _did _love to harmlessly spread it.

"Oh, Ethan!" Amber laughed back, throwing a couch pillow at him in mock anger. "One of these days I'm going to set you up on one of those hidden camera shows and watch you scream like a little girl when some guy wearing a _real _Hollywood monster mask gives you a taste of some of your own medicine!"

"But seriously, who are we going to hit this year?" Nathan inquired. "We creamed Christopher last time, but since he threatened to beat us to a pulp if we did it again, we should probably find some fresh meat."

"Agreed," said Ian, perhaps the most experienced of their lighthearted Halloween exploits. "How about we leave a giant shaving cream picture of…something…in Mrs. Hamilton's front yard?"

"Um, I'm not so sure about that," chuckled Kattus nervously. "I'm kind of in deep water in her class right now."

"You'll be fine once the poetry stuff comes around," Ian assured him, and the rest of the group nodded in agreement. Nobody they knew wrote poems quite like Kattus.

"So if not teachers and faculty, then who?" Ethan wondered. "I guess we could do _my _neighborhood for a change. Or Alex's. She's right behind us."

"But you have so much ground to cover—there's too many open spaces," Ian pointed out.

"True, but speed and the cloak of night be-eth on our side," Kattus said. "I have a few ninja getups I could loan you guys."

"Sounds like a plan," Nathan said.

"I'd like it—I've always wondered what I'd look like in black," Amber agreed.

So it was settled. As the night drew on, they piled into Nathan's car (being the most spacious) and, after picking up the ninja gear at martial artist Kattus' house, headed over to Ethan neighborhood.

Ethan lived a littler ways back from most folks, which was probably why their group of friends were the first to discover what Claire had accidentally left behind.

**. . .**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter The Third: Disappearances, Part II

It was dark when they pulled into Ethan's neighborhood, and the trick-or-treaters were already out and about, hunting for candy amid the orange-lit decorations of the houses that would later become the targets of toilet paper and other such pleasantries. However, none of the trick-or-treaters had yet made it back to the street on which Ethan lived, as his was one of the last houses in the development.

The lights weren't even on yet, as Ethan's father had stayed behind at the book signing to hear the author's lecture on horror and Ethan's mother was likely still at work. Of course, as Ethan well knew, Claire could never be counted on to turn on the lights herself—she was probably upstairs watching TLC.

Stopping at the gate Ethan's family a little self-consciously were able to afford and actually had to install as part of the homeowner's charter their even wealthier neighbors had forced them to join when they moved here speculated, Ethan stepped out of the car and punched in the code on the control panel at the side of the driveway.

Not surprisingly, the moment the gate was open Amber closed the car door he had stepped out of and Nathan sped up to the house in playful retaliation for Ethan's latest scaring of Amber.

Ethan laughed as they did so.

_I can't dish it out if I can't take it back_, he thought.

Walking back up through the gate after the car, Ethan turned to watch the gate close back. He had meant to push in the setting that would leave it open for the trick-or-treaters, as their property was fenced-in. However, forgetful as usual, Ethan he had accidentally left it on its normal setting.

_Oh well_, he thought. _I'll just readjust the setting at the house. Wait, where's_…

Ethan looked around in bewilderment as he walked up the driveway.

The car, and his friends, were nowhereto be seen.

They couldn't have gone into the garage, as even it required a code to get in, and even his friends didn't know that, just as he had never told anyone outside his family the code to his house's gate.

So where were they? Ethan hardly doubted they would have driven the car around to the back yard just to hide from him—Rex was back there for one thing, and none of Ethan's friends would even dare to think of accidentally running over the beloved golden. Besides, Rex's poop was _everywhere _back there, which would be just as much a deterrent.

Looking at where the driveway entered the backyard just to be sure, Ethan couldn't see any tire tracks anyway.

So where _had _they gone?

The minute Ethan took a closer step up the driveway, he got his answer.

**. . .**


	4. Chapter 5

Chapter That Comes After Three: Killer Keys

"Haha, good one, Nathan," Amber laughed, watching Ethan watch them speed away up the driveway.

"Always happy to help humiliate," Nathan laughed back.

"Hey, where's Rex?" inquired Kattus, looking out the window for Ethan's family's ever-welcoming dog. "He's usually barking at us, even though we've been here in this same car like twelve-hundred times."

"That's just his way of saying hello," Ian said, also looking out the window. "But it is strange that he isn't out here. Wonder where he could have gone."

"Just stop if he pops up, okay?" Amber cautioned to Nathan. "I don't want to run him—_STOP_!"

Nathan abruptly slammed his foot down on the breaks, but it was too late. The car was already moving too fast, and even if it hadn't been, there was little the driver could have done to prevent the car from smashing into…

…a _rabbit_?

The strange little creature looked nothing like any rabbit the teens had ever seen, save for his ears. He seemed to be more of the idea of a bunny than an actual specimen, but twisted into a distorted monstrosity.

"What the heck is that thing?" Nathan exclaimed, having finally gotten the car to a screeching halt—sending the rabbit flying off the hood and tumbling across the bright red carpet…wait, bright red carpet.

"W…where _are _we?" Ian wondered.

Wherever they were, it certainly wasn't Ethan's family's driveway. If anything, it looked like a throne room—but the kind you'd only find in a cartoon. The room was incredibly long and just short of being equally wide, with a skyscraper roof and tapestries that could've served as blankets for a hundred orphans apiece.

But the strangest thing about the, was that they all bore the insignia of—

"Mickey Mouse!" shouted Kattus, pointing to the dilapidated black figure the car had just sent hurtling across the throne room. "He looks just like Mickey Mouse, but in real life!"

"You mean we just killed _Mickey_?" Nathan yelled. "But that's impossible! This whole _place _is impossible!"

"_WHAT'S GOING ON_?" Kattus screamed, hands pulling at his voluminous mop of curly black hair.

"If this is another one of Ethan's tricks," Nathan muttered, though he couldn't see how it could be. "I'm going to kill him."

"If _he _doesn't kill _us _first," Ian said, pointing out the window. He wasn't referring to Ethan here, but to the rabbit (who, as they all looked on, really _did _bear an eerie similarity to Mickey Mouse. In fact, if they had been the same species, they very well could have been brothers), who was painfully picking himself up off the floor. With a glare, the rabbit began advancing on the car, fists clenched.

If the teens had been watching such a thing in a cartoon, then it would've been a comical sight—but they weren't, and the all-too-real yet oddly cartoonlike rabbit, like a distortion in reality, was looking more and more frightening with every hippity-hop it made to get closer to them.

"Reverse!" Kattus yelled in Nathan's ear, breaking him out of the shock of having thought he killed—and was then going to _be _killed—by what might have been America's favorite cartoon star. "Drive, _drive_, DRIVE!"

Nathan shifted gears and slammed his feet on the pedals once more, sending the car careening backwards towards the titanic double doors that led away from the throne room.

But, seeing his offensive quarry escaping, the rabbit snapped his fingers and yelled "_I don't think so_!" in a voice that was a lot more sinister than its high-pitched squeak would lead one to believe.

Suddenly, bursts of cartoon smoke all around the car revealed shadowy figures, all bearing ink-black skin like the rabbit, all having rubbery limbs and exaggerated features. But the scariest thing of all about them was their eyes—black, void, and expressionless.

But if they _could _have shown expression, there was no doubt in the four friend's minds about what the emotion shown would be—rage.

"What are _those_?" Nathan repeated, only this time referencing the other cartoon beings rather than the rabbit they thought they had just killed.

"They're the ghosts of the forgotten," the rabbit said darkly, smiling with a sparkle of malice in his eyes. "And they're your death! Disney Castle will be mine, no matter what manner of warriors and bizarre weaponry queen Minnie has sent to oppose me!"

Leaping, the cartoon ghosts snared the sides of the car with their claws, rapping and pounding and scratching at what to them was an alien vehicle, trying to get inside. The teens instantly locked their doors, but that proved of little consequence when the cartoons shattered the windows and yanked the teens out into the throne room.

"Get—off—me—you—_freaks_!" Nathan yelled angrily, yanking his arms away from the viselike grips of the attackers. His hands finally free, he punched one on the side of the head, sending it across the room—but just like the rabbit, it simply picked itself back up again, agitated but apparently none the worse for wear.

"We can't hurt them!" Kattus called to his friends, defending himself from a ring of black-and-white attackers with his years of martial arts experience. As if to demonstrate, one of the cartoons jabbed forward with a punch that Kattus easily dodged—but upon counterattacking with a chop to the attacker's outstretched arm, the almost fluid appendage simply gave under the pressure of the blow before snapping back into place. "They really are cartoons—how are we supposed to fight cartoons?"

"You can't!" chuckled the rabbit with malevolent mirth. "And add to that the fact that we're _ghosts_, you're doubly dead!"

"How did we even get here?" Amber cried out as a throng of the ghostly cartoons engulfed her in a tidal wave tackle. "Where _is _here, anyway?"

"This is the throne room, which I assume queen Minnie sent you to in order to stop me," the rabbit went on, casually strolling through the melee and whipping out his claws absentmindedly, which grew in sharpness and length as he approached the now empty car. "Although I don't know what this weapon is that she sent you to slay me with—I've seen automobiles before, but nothing like _this_. In fact, after you're all dead, I think I'll keep it."

Nathan, disappearing under the sheer number of cartoon bodies engulfing him and the rest of the youths, glared at the bunny before his eyes were completely covered.

"Oh, come now," the rabbit scolded to him mockingly. "It's not as if _you'll _be using it anymore."

"Yes—I—will—" Nathan managed to get out, his breath coming in short rasps as the weight of the surprisingly heavy cartoons began to crush him. "—because—that's—_my_—CAR!"

With a blast of light, the cartoon ghosts were flung off of Nathan like tissue paper off of an exploding volcano—many of them disintegrating as they fell away. Nathan himself stood, looking bruised and battered but otherwise unharmed –and is his hand, gripped with white-knuckle intensity, was a large and rather peculiar-looking key.

Causing Nathan's anger to skip a beat, he glanced down in surprise at the weapon and said "Hey, what's this thing?"

"A _Keyblade_?" cried on of the ghostly cartoons.

"You never said anything about _them_!" screamed another, scampering off in fear.

"I'm outta here!" said a third, and began to fade from sight like so many cartoons lost to the annals of history—which was precisely what he was.

"STOP!" the rabbit roared, silencing the trembling cartoons and bringing back with a snap the ones who had begun to fade away. "He's probably just that kid the queen was talking about—and it's just _one _Keyblade! And from the looks of it, he's never used it—"

"Could've fooled me," Nathan heard the cartoon nearest to him grumbled.

"—so we can prevent him from becoming a bigger threat before he actually becomes one at all! Kill him first, and then we'll take care of the rest of measly bunch. Remember, it's not like _they _have Keyblades too—there's only been _one_ sighted in over a decade!"

But with three more bursts of brightness, that record was shattered. The rabbit twirled to find the three other youths having echoed Nathan, their own unique Keyblades at their side. Each one looked simultaneously just as angry at the rabbit as Nathan had—and just as confused as well.

The rabbit wasn't so sure about the situation now, and a large bead of sweat rolled down the back of his head.

"Um, just a m-minute now…" he stuttered, his legs beginning to shake as fear welled up in his belly. "If we act calmly I'm s-sure we can reach a mutually b-beneficial a-arrangement…"

The four teens, having advanced slowly towards the rabbit during his speech, brandished their large sword-like keys, enclosing him in a circle of steel.

"BASH THE BUNNY!" Kattus bellowed in a battle cry.

4


	5. Chapter 6

ChApTeR fIvE

"Whoa!" Ethan exclaimed.

"Ethan!" all four teens gasped, spinning around to face their so-far absent friend.

"Where were you? We—"

"—were driving along and all of a sudden—"

"—we were in this freaky castle, and—"

"—this psycho bunny was attacking us!"

"Whoa!" Ethan said again. "What are you talking about? Where _are _we? And _what _psycho bunny?"

"This one!" Nathan said, pointing his Keyblade—as the rabbit had called it—to a lump of red fabric tied up tightly in a ball.

Unsure of what was going on (and only slightly less so than his friends), Ethan warily approached the ball of burgundy, unsure of what he would find.

"We had to tie him up in one of the tapestries after we knocked him out," Nathan went on.

"I still don't get what's going on here," Ethan continued. "Am I dreaming—wait, is that—is that _Oswald the Lucky Rabbit_?"

"You _know _him?" Amber wondered.

"Who is he?" Ian inquired.

"He's only one of the greatest and most horribly abused cartoon characters of all time," Ethan explained.

"_Abused_?" Kattus spat. "More like _abusive_. He tried to _kill _us!"

"He what?" Ethan said. "I guess being forgotten will do that to a cartoon."

"It sure will."

Ethan spun around, just in time to see the rabbit, having somehow unfurled and uncurled himself from the tapestry bondage—it was even still in its original shape, as if the rabbit hadn't unwound it to escape but had simply disappeared and reappeared—springing towards his face. With a cry of surprise, Ethan instinctively rose his hands to defend himself—and with a flash of brightness and the feeling of his hand being tugged downwards, Ethan saw that he had somehow struck the rabbit down…with a giant key.

"Um…what is this thing?" Ethan voiced the same question his friends had been asking themselves for the past few minutes. Whatever it was, it seemed to have knocked the rabbit unconscious—and ghost or not, Oswald had a nasty lump forming on the top of his skull.

"Good question," Kattus said. "We wish we knew—but it seems to be the only thing effective against these 'ghost cartoons.' After we bashed them a few times with these giant keys, the other ghosts vanished, leaving—Oswald, did you say it was?—behind. Not very loyal, whatever those cartoon things are."

Loyal or not, the other cartoons were gone now, leaving the teens once again with the problem of what to do with the unconscious homicidal rabbit—and how to get home. After wrapping the offensive lapin back up in the tapestry Kattus had pulled down from the ceiling, the five youths sat in a circle around the bunny, discussing what was to be done next.

None of them had a clue.

"So none of us has any idea where we are, or what's going on?" Ethan clarified, having been the last to arrive to the scene.

"As we've said already, no," Nathan repeated. "Besides, you're the one who's into otherworldly quantum physics stuff—why don't _you _tell us what's going on?"

"Hey, just because I have an interest in science fiction doesn't mean I understand it when it _happens_," Ethan retorted. "Though if I had to speculate, I would think that—if this isn't a dream and you all aren't figments of my imagination crafted from memory—we've somehow been pulled into an alternate reality."

"Alternate reality?" wondered Ian. "You mean like in a movie? Alice in Wonderland? Peter Pan?"

"Something like that," Ethan went on. "I don't know how something like this could exist in our world, so this must be a _different _pocket of existence entirely."

"So those weird creatures are the people who live here?" Amber pondered.

"Possibly, but I don't think so," Ethan guessed. "There just seemed to be something _off _about them, if you know what I mean. As if they don't belong here anymore than we do."

"So they're from another dimension _besides _this one and our own?" Kattus said. "This is getting a _little _too confusing."

"That still doesn't explain what these giant keys are," Amber said. "Or why they appeared out of nowhere."

"That's the most confusing thing yet," Ethan agreed. "Have you noticed how each one is individualized, almost as if suiting our own unique personalities?"

And come to think of it, they did. Kattus, the most outgoing of the group, wielded a blade that was a mixture of what looked like miniature comets frozen in time and some kind of space-age technology—_as Walt Disney himself would have put it_, Ethan thought, _The world of tomorrow_.

Amber's resembled a barrage of exploding fireworks midflight, rocketing skyward as they burst into color—if anything, a clear display of her fiercely independent and colorful spirit.

Ian's seemed to be two eagles interlocked in a battle of talons and wings, each feather sharp as a razor blade. Ian was the outdoorsman of the posse, so it made sense that his blade would reflect nature.

Ethan's 'Keyblade,' as the others had said the cartoon ghosts called them, was an intricate work of chaos, seeming to lack any real reason or rhyme—and it bore the head of the Cheshire Cat at the end. Ethan was an avid enthusiast of chaos, and used its predominantly overlooked benevolent effects to justify his constant tricks.

Finally, Nathan's Keyblade may have resembled him more than any of the others. While it bore a sinister mixture of dark colors and sharp protrusions, it nonetheless bore beautiful sparkles of light that illuminated its otherwise terrifying atmosphere—just like the helping hand Nathan was always ready to lend, even in the darkest situations.

This made the least sense of all—how could a different dimension have supplies ready and waiting for them, each suited to their own uniqueness, even though they had never been here?

"Well, if we're in another dimension…" Kattus mused with a look of trepidation, filing the problem of the Keyblades away for later. "Then how to we get back to _our _dimension?"

Everyone's heads swerved to look at Ethan.

"Don't look at me!" Ethan said. "I don't even know how we got here in the first place—"

Ethan's face froze, a cold eureka moment on the tip of his tongue.

"Oh, no," he moaned. "I was _afraid _something like this would happen."

"You mean you _do _know what's going on?" Ian questioned.

"Not exactly," Ethan said. "In fact, it was supposed to be a secret—but now that we're all here in this freaky dimension, I guess you guys deserve to know."

"Know what?" Amber asked, getting a little impatient.

"How we got here."


	6. Chapter 7

THIS IS CHAPTER 6

"It all started a few years back," Ethan began. "And when it first happened, my family felt just as confused as I'm sure we all do now."

"What are you talking about?" Nathan inquired, a quizzical eyebrow raised.

"Claire."

"Claire?" Kattus echoed. "What does your little sister have to do with all this?"

"She can…well, we're not really sure what it is, or how or even why it exists…" Ethan went on, trying to locate words the others could see were obviously winning at a game of hide and seek with him. "She can open portals."

"Portals?"

"You mean like that videogame?"

"Kind of," Ethan replied. "But not exactly. In the videogame Portal, you use the titular portals to move from point A to B without moving through the space between, due to a bending in the fabric of the time-space continuum—in other words, a bending in reality.

"What Claire can do is somewhat different. She can open portals that do you get you from point A to B faster than travelling through a normal route would—it's just that the portals go _somewhere _else before they lead back to wherever on Earth you are."

"Um…are you expecting us to believe that your sister has superpowers?" Ian asked, slightly skeptical.

"With all that has just happened," Nathan said. "It wouldn't be that surprising."

"And you think that we went through one of these portals, and that's how we ended up here?" Amber postulated.

"Precisely."

"But why couldn't we see it?" Kattus wondered. "And why would Claire just leave a big portal to another world open in the middle of your driveway?"

"The portals are invisible," Ethan said. "Probably due to the light having to travel through curved space as the space and time around the portals is warped to allow for their existence. We still haven't worked that part out yet. As for why she would leave a portal that large open—I don't think she would. Claire has always been very careful to close a portal once she's opened it, and even if she forgets one it's always very small. I think that, for whatever reason, she opened one today—and _something_ came out of it, and took her."

"What?" the others gasped. "Then where is she?"

"I think little old Oswald here knows," Ethan said darkly, poking the rabbit with his Keyblade. "Don't you?"

But the tapestry simply sagged, empty.

Oswald, in the middle of the teens, had escaped.

"What—where did he go?" Ethan shouted. "He's our only link to finding Claire!"

"The rabbit probably disappeared," Nathan said. "The other cartoons said they were all the 'ghosts of the forgotten'—they could disappear and do other weird things."

"How are we supposed to catch a ghost, then?" Ethan said, a worried look creeping up on his face. Then, as another cold eureka gave him a brain freeze, Ethan said "I mean, how am _I _supposed to catch a ghost?"

"What do you mean, '_you_?'" Nathan asked, smiling. "You think we won't help our buddy rescue his sister from a psycho bunny? Even if we are in some crazy 'other dimension?'"

"But this is my problem," Ethan said. "I'd love your help, but I have no idea what we'd be going up against in this alternate reality. The rules of our own reality might not even apply—you could start drowning on air, or randomly be falling up instead of down!"

"That's never stopped us before," Kattus beamed.

"Indeed," agreed Amber.

"You can count me in," Ian saluted.

"You really mean it?" Ethan asked, his face lighting up as his four friends nodded their heads. "You guys are the best!"

"We know," Nathan said happily. "Now, where do we start looking?"

"That's a good question," Ethan said, beginning to pace. "If we're in what looks like a throne room, then maybe we're in an actual castle—assuming our two realities are similar enough to share the same meaning of and idea of the world 'castle.' So, my best guess would be to find to find whoever's king of the castle. If anyone can help us out in this world, it'll surely be him!"

"Or her, if it's a queen," Amber said.

"Or her," Ethan agreed.

With that, the five friends set out to the large double doors leading out of the throne room. After some minutes of trying to figure out how to open the skyscraper-sized doors, Ian discovered a small door inset into the larger ones, and the friends spilled out into an extravagant courtyard.

Sunshine was shining down on the statuesque shrubbery and the white stone of the castle gleamed in the radiance. One thing the friends were quick to notice was how…_cartoony_… everything looked. The shrubberies were all cartoon characters playing fanfare or positioned in goofy poses, despite their attempts to look regal. The bright blue tops of the spiraling, twisty towers all bore flags with a silhouetted insignia of yet another cartoon character, one they all instantly recognized as—

"Hey," Ethan said. "Is that _Mickey Mouse_'s head on those flags?"

"Probably," Amber said. "Didn't you notice the three black circles on the tapestries in the throne room?"

"Come to think of it, I did," the absent-minded Ethan admitted. "Wouldn't it be funny if the king we're looking for really _was_ Mickey Mouse?"

"And his queen was Minnie?" Kattus laughed.

"Did someone call me?"

The five friends spun around, coming face to face with none other than the royally-attired Minnie Mouse.


	7. Chapter Next

C CH CHA CHAP CHAPT CHAPTE CHAPTER 7

"Who are you, may I ask?" inquired the mouse kindly. She was obviously queen of the castle—she wore a bejeweled dress and had the crown to match.

"We're…um…"

"This is incredible!" Ethan exclaimed. "_Minnie Mouse_! I must say, ma'am, it's an honor to meet such a famous cartoon character—"

"Oh, why thank you," Minnie said. "But, if I may ask, how have you heard of me? I do not believe we have met."

"How have we heard of you?" Ian asked incredulously. "Who _hasn't _heard of you? You're one of the most famous cartoons in the world!"

"In this world, maybe," Minnie agreed modestly. "But I do not think that you are from this world. Am I correct?"

At first stunned that she had known such a thing and then guessing that they probably stood out from the other cartoons Minnie was most likely used to seeing in her kingdom, the five friends nodded. Still, that didn't explain how she was taking visitors from another world so calmly. Perhaps, as Claire had gotten here, this world was frequented by interdimensional travellers of all kinds.

"Then what world are you from?" Minnie inquired. "Oh, I pray that you are not from a world that has been destroyed?"

"Been destroyed?" Kattus said, a little uneasily. "Is that…_common_?"

"Increasingly so, I'm afraid," Minnie relented. "But if you had not known this, then surely your world must still be untouched by the terrible unknown tragedy that causing the stars to go out?"

"Not that we know of," Amber answered. "At least, I _hope _our world is safe from—from whatever 'tragedy' you're talking about."

"It must be," Minnie sighed with relief. "Trust me, you would have known if your world was afflicted. But how did you come here from your own world, wherever that may be? Chief gummi engineers Chip and Dale did not report any ships docking today."

"Gummi engineers?"

"Chip and Dale? Like the chipmunks?"

"What kind of ship?"

Minnie looked confused, her tail swishing in uncertainty. Furrowing her brow, she said "Do you mean to tell me that you did not come here from the destruction of your world, but you did not come here by gummi ship either? How can this be?"

"Portals," Ethan answered. "We came here via portal. As far as we know, it's a rare thing in our world as well, so we wouldn't be surprised if you hadn't heard of such a means of travel."

"Do you mean the corridors of darkness?" Minnie said, shocked. Then, relenting, "But I do not sense any darkness about you; you surely must speak of some other portals—but how can this be? Travel between the worlds through any other means is impossible!"

"Not for us," Kattus said with a smile.

"We don't entirely understand it ourselves, ma'am," Nathan said. "But we're here looking for the cause of those portals—one of which is actually still open in your throne room. We'd close it if we could, but the person who opened it—and the only person who can close it—was kidnapped by someone called Oswald the Lucky Rabbit."

"Oswald?" Minnie exclaimed, clearly taken aback. "Surely you jest—I thought Oswald was just a myth!"

"A myth who tried to kill us with his other cartoon ghosts," Ian mumbled.

"What do you know about Oswald?" Ethan asked.

"All I know about the 'Lucky Rabbit' is stored in a book in the library," Minnie said, beginning to look worried. "Come, I will show you, for if what you say is true, then we and all of Disney Castle—perhaps even the worlds at large—are all in grave danger!"

Minnie rushed to two slightly smaller double doors down the balcony, to the right of the doors to the throne room. Inside was a curving and warped bookshelf facing a richly ornamented desk with quills and parchment ready for writing.

With a snap of her fingers, Minnie caused a book to fly into her hand. The others, despite all that had happened in the past half-hour or so, took a step back in surprise at the magic.

"This is the tome of the forgotten," Minnie said, laying the book out on the desk. It was large and thickly bound with what seemed like leather. "It is not a book to be taken lightly."

"Why is that?" Nathan asked, voicing what the others. "And how can you have a 'book of the forgotten?' Don't you have to remember something before you write a book about it?"

"All who wrote this book have long been lost to the ages," Minnie explained. "This is all that remains of their travels and tales. In fact, the book's official name is_ The Adventures of Oswald the Lucky Rabbit_; we only call it the book of the forgotten because though the book mentions things in the past that we know took place, nobody is alive to remember actually having witnessed them, or the people they happened to. This book is all that survived of that time, a record of the forgotten."

"And even _that _won't survive for much longer!"

The five friends and Minnie turned abruptly to see Oswald the Lucky Rabbit himself, a sack slung over his shoulder and some sort of electrical device in his hands, which sparked noisily.

"How did _he _get in here?" Minnie squealed, recognizing the rabbit. "The doors never opened, and they're the only entrances to the library!"

"He must be using Claire to open portals for him!" Ethan said grimly, brandishing his Keyblade. "But he won't for much longer!"

Ethan jumped towards the evil bunny, Keyblade raised, only to be sent flying backwards with a touch of the rabbit's electrical device.

"Uh-uh-uh!" Oswald said with a smirk. "And I wouldn't do that again if I were you—or the girl gets it!"

Oswald unslung the pack from his shoulders and undid the top just enough to where Claire's head could be seen.

"CLAIRE!" Ethan yelled. "Release her right now or I'll—"

"Or you'll _what_?" Oswald spat back. "_I'm _in charge here!"

As if to prove his point, the rabbit shocked Claire with the electrical device, causing her gagged mouth to cry out in pain. Her eyes looked to the five friends desperately.

"Now, my dear," Oswald whispered into Claire's ear. "Open up as many portals as you can—or you get the _zapper_ again!"

Claire shook her head furiously, refusing. The onlookers admired her strength—Ethan certainly knew the threat of the 'zapper,' as Oswald had called it, was not one to be taken lightly.

"Fine then, we get to do this the _fun_ way!" Oswald laughed maniacally.

He jabbed Claire in the neck with the zapper, causing electricity to crackle around her as she cried out in pain. Involuntarily, Claire caused several portals to open—and quite suddenly an invisible sucking force began drawing _The Adventures of Oswald the Lucky Rabbit _towards it, whilst other vacuum-like forces began to rip page after page out, sending the flying around in a white whirlwind before they vanished through one of the many invisible portals.

"No!" shouted Minnie as the book disappeared.

"Now the only _real _weapon you could have had against me is scattered to the worlds!" Oswald screamed through the winds of the portals.

"And so are _you_, JERK!"

The occupants of the library turned in surprise at the new voice—Claire's. Somehow, she had wriggled her way out of the bag Oswald had imprisoned her in and, though she was bound hand and foot, had just enough freedom in her legs to send Oswald flying with a kick.

He landed right in the middle of the maelstrom of portals, suddenly began being ripped apart with a horrible scream.

"This isn't over!" his mouth shouted before it disappeared. "I'll make you all _pay _for this!"

"Over my dead body!" Ethan called back.

But just before Oswald disappeared completely, his arm flew off—only to be caught by the other arm and used as a doubly-lengthened appendage with which he grabbed Claire.

Claire screamed and tried to kick the two armed-arm away as well, but it grabbed onto her foot and pulled her closer to the space Oswald was even now disappearing from. With a flash, Claire was gone as well, though she wasn't pulled apart the same way the ghost-cartoon had been—though there was no way of knowing where she had gone, or even through which portal, as they were all invisible.


	8. Chapter 8

8 RETPAHC

"Where'd she go?" Ethan yelled over the winds. "I have to find her—but which portal did she go through?"

"It could've been any of them!" Kattus exclaimed.

"We'll just have to split up," Nathan said, keeping the group level-headed. "Everyone, approach the portals in a circle. With any fortune, we'll all be taken to a different place—and hopefully one of us will be taken to the place Claire is."

"Good idea," Ian said.

Circling the portal's nexus as Nathan had suggested, the five friends ran headlong into the portals—and disappeared, leaving a very confused and very distressed-looking Minnie to wonder what she was supposed to do with a library full of open portals, and one in the throne room to boot!

"Oh, if only the king wasn't away searching for the cause of the stars blinking out," she muttered to herself. "And the captain of the guard and the court magician weren't out looking for him!"

**. . .**

"Ouch," was all Nathan could say as he landed face-first on a patch of knobby forest floor. There were no leaves to cushion Nathan's fall, which he found odd—in fact, the trees above not only bore no leaves, it looked as if the tall, dead, spiky woods hadn't born any leaves for quite some time, if ever at all.

The ground was hard with little ridges, which Nathan gripped to help himself up. As he rose to a standing position, the head of the little group of friends noticed something else—his Keyblade was gone!

"Where could it be?" he wondered aloud. "I _just _had it!"

But try as he might, the Keyblade wasn't to be found anywhere on the knobby ground, or around the dead trees with the doors in them—

Wait, what?

Stepping up to one of the trees, Nathan inspected the door in it curiously. The door doubled as a picture, bearing the image of a little Christmas tree complete with decorations.

It looked incredibly old, though, despite its bright and cheery colors.

"This can't be," Nathan laughed to himself. "I'm in _The Nightmare Before Christmas_!"

Why _should _he be surprised, though? _I just saw Minnie Mouse and some deranged rabbit who used to be a cartoon character_—_maybe all these worlds Minnie was talking about are based on Disney movies_, he thought to himself. _Makes about as much sense as anything else that's happened._

"Maybe I'll get to meet Jack Skellington," Nathan said hopefully. "_That'd _be awesome."

"Gang way!"

"Tally ho!"

"Move it or lose it, loser!"

Nathan barely had time to jump out of the way as the door with the little Christmas tree on it burst open and, of all things, a _bathtub with legs_ came rushing out of it. Riding the runaway tub like a bucking bronco were three caricatures of trick-or-treating children, complete with costumes and masks. All were precariously perched on a large sack that filled up the tub completely, leaving the three kids barely any room to hang on.

"Lock, Shock, and Barrel!" Nathan exclaimed as he watched the tub retreat into the distance. "Looks like the Keyblade will have to wait—I can't lose those guys!"

And it was true—who knew how long these woods lasted? Following the troublesome trio was Nathan's only surefire way to Halloween Town, and if Claire was anywhere in this deliciously nightmarish realm, it was there.

Nathan took off running after the trio, and their latest catch—one Nathan was certain wouldn't be too happy when he found out his holiday was about to be hijacked.

**. . .**

"Oh, my _head_!" Ian moaned, rubbing the sore spot where he'd unceremoniously landed. "Wait, where am I?"

"Traverse Town."

"Who—" Ian said as he spun around to come face to face with a tall young man bearing a deep slashing scar across his face.

"I should be asking the same question," the young man said darkly, cutting Ian off. "Who are _you_?"

"Ian," said Ian, not quite sure he liked the young man's tone. Sure, the intimidating youth was taller than he was and, if the scar was any judgment, was not alien to fights. But Ian had just defeated a small army of ghost-cartoons (which was much more difficult and frightening than it sounded), so he wasn't about to take down-talk so easily. "And who are _you_?"

"Leon," replied the youth. "I guess you could say I'm like the protector of this little refuge for those who have lost their worlds."

"Lost their worlds?" Ian wondered aloud. "What are you talking about?"

"As if you don't know, Heartless!" Leon spat, drawing a large and peculiarly gun-like sword from a void of nothing.

"Well, I'm not an advocate of violence," Ian said somewhat sarcastically, not preparing to back down. "But if it's a fight you want, _try me_!"

**. . .**

"This is all looking strangely familiar," Kattus muttered to himself. "And at the same time, quite creepy."

The curly-haired young man looked around the enormous little boy's bedroom he'd ended up in on the other side of the portal, eyeing posters and toys that looked suspiciously like—

"What a minute," Kattus laughed to himself. "I'm in _Toy Story_?"

"Technically, you're in Andy's room," said an all-too-familiar voice from behind. "And you're in my spot."

Kattus spun around to see none other than Woody the Cowboy, looking none too happy.

"Whoa, it's _Woody_!" Kattus laughed again, hardly believing that he'd actually somehow landed in one of his favorite movies.

"I mean, it was bad enough when Andy got that Buzz jerk for his birthday yesterday," Woody went on, seeming to be about to launch into an angst-filled monologue of toy grievance. "And now _you _show up? Who are you supposed to be, anyway? Wait—"

"What?" Kattus said, confused. The speech about Buzz Lightyear was familiar to him, but there was something else about the cowboy's tone. "Do you think _I'm _a toy?"

"Of course I do," Woody replied. "But first things first—_how did you know my name_?"

**. . .**

"Let's see… dark, spooky woods… eerie hooting in the background…looks like I'm somewhere horror-themed," Ethan said to himself, eyeing the black forest around him warily. The woods in general weren't his thing; the woods by night were even _more _not his thing. "What Disney movies, as that would make sense based on preexisting encounters, have such scenery?"

Ethan prayed it wasn't _Sleepy Hollow _or some such movie that would've caused him nightmares as a kid. Sure, he was old enough now to know that the images on TV was really a rapid succession of illustrated slides called 'animation,' but actually _being _in such a picture posed a certainly terrifying conundrum if it was one of the more unpleasant movies.

But, all of a sudden, the forest began to lite up as the hooting in the shadows gave way to trumpets and fanfare. Darting into the bushes to avoid any potentially unfriendly newcomers, Ethan watched in silence as a royal procession made its way through the forest path where only moments ago he'd been standing.

"I don't believe it!" Ethan whispered to himself when he saw who sat upon the throne borne by a cavalcade of card soldiers. On it sat a plump and perilously tyrannical-looking woman, who could only be the Queen of Hearts (as if the card soldiers themselves hadn't given it away). "I'm in _Alice in Wonderland_!"

**. . .**

"Wow, look at that view!" Amber said to herself, looking in awe at the towering mountains in the distance. It really was quite the sight, the towering snowcapped peaks as well as the peculiar structure that snaked along them. "Wait, is that—"

"Halt!" shouted a stern, commanding military voice. "Who goes there?"

"I do—I'm Amber," Amber replied, turning around cautiously to see an entire regiment of soldiers outfitted for war. "Who are _you_?"

"We are the Imperial Army, and you are trespassing on the marvelous nation of China."

"China! I thought so, the wall was kind of a giveaway," Amber replied, eyeing the army with distrust. They didn't look like the friendliest bunch, especially three towards the front. One was gigantically fat and could've easily crushed anyone, one was small yet had a Napoleonic look of dangerous anger about him, and the third was slim yet looked like he'd be quick on his feet in a scrap. Then, behind them, Amber thought she could see…yes!—another soldier in their little group. This last one, though, didn't look quite so tough, though he _did _look determined. In fact, if Amber hadn't known any better, she'd say that the fourth soldier wasn't a _he _at all. Instead, the 'soldier' looked a lot like—

"Mulan!" Amber blurted with surprised happiness.

**. . .**


	9. Chapter 9

C to the H to the A to the P to the T to the E to the R to the 9

Claire groggily opened her eyes, scanning her surroundings with a leer of frustration mixed with determination. How could she have let that mangy rabbit-thing surprise her like that? But he had paid for it, and dearly—by the looks of how he disappeared, the rabbit was history. Claire felt a mix of emotions about that, but as he had claimed to be a ghost, it didn't weigh too heavily on her conscience. If he _was _a ghost, then he was already dead anyway.

But where was she now?

After some time and the use of her teeth, Claire was able to wriggle out of the bands that Oswald had bound her with and stand up straight, her legs aching from being constrained for so long. Now that that was out of the way, Claire got a proper look at wherever the rabbit's last act had put her.

It wasn't pretty.

It had looked before as if Claire was in some sort of castle based on Disney, like the theme park.

This new place looked eerily similar, and all the more creepy because of it—for _this _castle, though still Disney-themed, was wrought with a darkly twist. Faded paintings of Disney villains lined the dark pink-purple walls, which themselves were coated in dust and grime. Shadows were everywhere, as were cobwebs—something Claire did _not _want to stray too close to.

Looking around warily for any signs of life, both hoping and fearing she would find any, Claire walked cautiously towards the once-grand double doors leading out of what she assumed was the throne room of this palatial estate.

Only when Claire was outside did she see the true extent of the world she had fallen into. It was massive, and stretched out in a circular spiral of dark swirling storm clouds and pools of green acid covering what looked like it might have once been a cheery, cartoony kind of place.

"Well, I don't think I've seen you around here, and I've seen _everyone _around here," said a voice, causing her to swirl around in surprise, fists bared in case of any more conflict. "So you must be new.

"Welcome to Wasteland."

**. . .**

"Hey, wait up!" Nathan called after the quickly retreating bathtub as it sped away through the thick, dark, dead forest. Not really expecting the three trick-or-treating tricksters to listen to him but not wanting to lose his only lead into town, Nathan hurried after Lock, Shock, and barrel with all his remaining speed.

Fortunately, endurance wasn't a problem for the young man—but he couldn't hope to catch up with the three troublemakers again if he lost sight of them. With all the twists and turns they were taking and all the winding paths spreading out through the Hinterlands forest, Nathan doubted he would be able to pick up their trail again should they give him the slip.

Nathan breathed a sigh of relief when they abruptly stopped, catching himself from running past them at the last minute and instead hiding behind one of the dead trees. If the real Lock, Shock, Barrel were anything like they were in the movie, then he doubted they'd react positively to someone following them. Best if he kept on the down-low till he got to Halloween Town.

The trick-or-treating tricksters were waiting for Moonlight Hill, the curling promontory to unfurl into a bridge for them, which Nathan had to rush to catch after the bathtub crossed it to avoid being left in the forest when it curled back up again.

Nathan almost laughed as he crested the hill and watched Lock, Shock, Barrel and their bagged quarry waddle into a peculiarly lit town rising amid the black trees of this world. Nathan could hardly believe it, but here he was, in Halloween Town, right in the middle of his favorite film!

Now that the town was in sight, Nathan casually strolled in, taking in all the sinister sights as vampires and hobgoblins glided past hi, going about their business and all humming in perfect unison the theme of the movie that he knew so well. In fact, Nathan couldn't help but hum along to the tune himself as he wandered around the Town Square, looking into the green waters of the central fountain and admiring the guillotine from a healthy distance.

Everywhere, zombie kids were playing with giant bats, black cats hissed alongside howling werewolves, skeletons tap-danced with creepy clowns, and ghosts flew in and out of grinning jack-o'-lanterns.

"This place is even better in real life!" Nathan said to himself.

"Real life?" asked a one-eyed mummy, stopping to ogle at Nathan quizzically. "Nobody has real life here. We're all dead!"

"Oh, my apologies," Nathan smiled.

"No problem," said the mummy, the bandages where his mouth must be covered moving as the decayed lips inside moved in time with his words. "But you'd better hurry if you want to make it to the town meeting! Jack's handing out jobs for everyone to help us make a Christmas!"

"So that's where we are in the movie?" Nathan inquired, only realizing after he'd said it that the question wouldn't have made a lick of sense to someone _in _the movie.

"There you go again, not making any sense," the mummy said curiously. "Oh, I get it! Everyone in Halloween Town is something scary; you must be an escaped asylum patient! Probably criminally insane, right? Liable to murder anyone at any moment?"

"Uh…sure?" Nathan replied, not quite sure what to say. It was probably best not to draw attention to himself, though until now he hadn't thought about the potential challenges of such a task. Nathan's main priority till now had been getting to Halloween Town, where Claire must surely be if she was anywhere in this world. But unless he wanted to cause a ruckus, he probably better blend in. Escaped psycho-killer sounded as good as anything else in this marvelous macabre madhouse, so why not go with it?

"Good!" affirmed the mummy cheerily. "I'll see you at the meeting, then!"

With that, the mummy hurried off to a large building at the end of the Square marked Town Hall, with a Countdown to Christmas sign above that reading only a few hours left till the big day.

Nathan rushed after the mummy, joining the line of eager monsters waiting to get in, knowing that at the end of that line would be Jack Skellington himself—and there would be no one else in all Halloween Town who knew this world better than he did. Jack _was _the king of the pumpkin patch, after all. If any weird rabbit-pieces or young girls had been sighted, Jack would've surely heard about it, so he was the best person to ask.

After all, Nathan knew for a fact that the mayor was useless around here.

After a good deal of waiting that had Nathan fidgeting with anticipation, both to actually get started searching for Claire and meeting his favorite character in this movie, Nathan at last made his way to the front of the line.

And there, tall, pale, and skeleton-y, was Jack Skellington, the pumpkin king. Towering well over even the tallest basketball player back on Earth, this hallmark of happy horror grinned at the newcomer with a friendly "Why hello there, I don't believe I've had the honor of making your acquaintance. Are you new to Halloween Town?"

About to burst out with exclamations of "JACK SKELLINGTON! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT!" Nathan again caught himself at the last minute. Best to blend in; not all of the worlds out there, this one included, may know of the existence of _other _worlds out there, as Minnie Mouse did. Speaking some babble about alternate realities (much like Ethan would've probably done) wouldn't get him anywhere.

"I'm Nathan," Nathan said. "Escaped asylum patient, wanted for psychotic killing sprees."

"Oh, how wonderful!" Jack exclaimed. "But I'm afraid I have a bit of a different job for you presently. We're making a Christmas, see, and we're trying to make jolly things to give girls and boys everywhere!"

"Speaking of girls—" Nathan began, about to ask about Claire, when all-of-a-sudden in burst Lock, Shock, and Barrel on their walking bathtub.

"We found him!"

"Sandy Claws!"

"Just like you asked!"

The three tricksters jumped up and threw their bag to the ground, which opened to reveal a large pink rabbit's head. Nathan instantly clenched his fists, wishing his Keyblade were here and not probably lost somewhere back at the holiday doors in the Hinterlands forest, relaxed when he realized that this was only the scene where Lock, Shock, and Barrel accidentally capture the Easter Bunny instead of Santa Claus.

"That's not him!" Jack reprimanded, looking angry. "Which door did you go through? There's more than one!"

"It was brightly colored like you said!"

"A big egg-shape!"

"With chickens and bunnies on it! Icky!"

"No, no, no," Jack moaned. "This will _never _do! Sandy Claws doesn't look like _that_, he looks like—"

"Like a big fat man wearing a red coat and a hat," Nathan blurted, interrupting Jack.

"_Exactly_!" Jack agreed. "Wait, how do you know so much about Sandy Claws?"

"Santa Claus," Nathan corrected automatically despite himself. "And I've celebrated Christmas before; I even know the true meaning of Christmas!"

"Really?" Jack exclaimed. "That's wonderful! In fact, I think that's what we need—someone who knows Christmas!"

"Glad to help," said Nathan, overjoyed to be a part of his favorite film. "But first, there's this girl I need to find—"

"Lock, Shock, Barrel—go with Nathan the psycho-killer here to find Sandy Claws," Jack said, not paying attention, overjoyed as he himself was with this new prospect of an insider into Christmas affairs. "He can help you figure out which one actually _is _the man we're looking for!"

"That's not what I meant—"

"Be back soon!" said Jack, turning to Nathan once more. "Christmas is in just a few hours!"

"Wait!" Nathan yelled, causing everyone in the hall to stop what they were doing and stare at him, making him feel more than a little awkward for breaking the mood. "I'd love to help and all, but first there's this girl I gotta find—she's my friend's sister, and we don't know where she is, but she might be here, so I would really appreciate it if you could tell me if you've seen anything suspicious."

Jack cocked his head to the side curiously, and then grinned.

"Tell you what," he said. "Bring me back Sandy Claws and I'll personally help you search for this girl. You can ride with me on Doctor Finkelstein's flying sleigh; we'll go all over the world, and be sure to find her!"

"I hate to say it," Nathan said. "But that actually sounds like the best way to cover ground searching for Claire. If I want to find her here, I guess I'll just have to kidnap Santa Claus!"


	10. Chapter 10

C H A P T E R 10

"Who are you?" Claire asked, eyeing the newcomer warily. It looked like a little cartoon man, though his skin was green and he appeared to be floating. The little goblin-esque creature had a friendly facial expression, but the last thing that looked cartoony had tried to torture her into helping it do something…_terrible_.

But she was free, and that did not bear thinking over.

"I'm Gremlin Gus!" replied the creature, apparently a 'gremlin'—whatever _that _was—cheerily. Ethan probably would've known what a gremlin was, but he wasn't here. "But just who might you be? I must admit that you don't look like any cartoon I've ever actually seen."

"That's because I'm _not _a cartoon," Claire spat angrily. "In fact, I don't think I'll ever be able to watch a cartoon again!"

"What?" gasped Gus, astounded. "But how can you say that? Cartoons are wonderful! Some of my best friends are cartoons…even _I'm _a cartoon!"

"Really?" asked Claire.

"I am indeed!"

"Then good riddance," she replied, and stalked away down the castle path, away from Gremlin Gus and towards the dark mists enveloping the world.

**. . .**

"Wait, where's my Keyblade!" Ian stammered, looking around desperately.

Leon eyed Ian quizzically, not quite sure what he was playing at.

"What are you talking about?" Leon asked. "Heartless can't wield the Keyblade, and besides, there's only one—and its wielder left here some time ago."

"Then how do you explain the five I just saw and used to defeat a bunch of ghost-cartoons?"

"You must've been an escaped asylum patient before you became a Heartless," Leon laughed. "Or, maybe you're just trying to confuse me. But it won't work. Heartless, prepare to lose whatever hearts you stole!"

With a war cry, Leon jumped forward, sword slashing down, to meet—

_ CLANG!_

—Ian's Keyblade!

Gripped tightly in Ian's hands, the Keyblade had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, and was blocking Leon's odd gun-sword.

"What?" Leon cried out in surprise. "There really is more than one! And you _do _have a Keyblade!"

"Told ya!" Ian smirked. "Now, _lay off_!"

With a violent swing of the Keyblade, Ian sent Leon flying across Traverse Town Square, the gun blade slipping from his hand and clattering several feet away.

Painfully, Leon stood up, and rushed to retrieve his gun blade. Ian reactively settled into a battle stance, Keyblade ready, but to Ian's surprise Leon sheathed his sword back into the void of nothing (presumably where Ian's Keyblade itself was hiding) and walked calmly up to Ian.

"My apologies," Leon said, smiling a confused smile. "I was not aware that there was indeed more than one Keyblade, much less that you were a wielder. But since you are a Keyblade wielder, maybe you can help out our town with a little problem we've been having…"

"You just tried to kill me and now you're asking for my help?" Ian laughed darkly. "I don't think so. Just tell me if you've seen a girl around here named Claire, and I'll leave peacefully."

"A girl?" Leon asked, again surprised. "The first Keyblade wielder I met was looking for a girl as well. It seems that that must be a requirement for a Keyblade wielder. But that's beside the point—"

"I'm afraid it's not," Ian cut Leon off. "It's the only reason I'm here. If you want help from me, you're telling me anything you know about Claire."

"Alright, fine," Leon compromised. "If you help me with our town's problem, I'll get _you_ the finest missing persons locater in Traverse Town to help you look for this 'Claire.'"

Ian paused, considering his would-be killer's offer for a moment.

Finally, Ian replied "This better be quick—the longer I wait, the less chance I have of finding Claire. But okay, I'll try my best to help your town."

"Good," Leon said simply. "Follow me."

The scarred youth led Ian up the stairs at the end of the Square, towards an old, large wooden set of doubled doors at the end of a stone corridor. Leon put his hands on the door warily, about to push it open, then thought better of it.

"What I'm about to show you isn't for the faint of heart," Leon said. "Even if you are a Keyblade wielder, you've still got to be prepared."

"I'm liking this community service less and less," Ian said. "What's so bad about it? What exactly do you want me to do?"

"Remember when I thought you were a Heartless?"

"_A _Heartless?" Ian asked. "I thought you just thought I _was _heartless, not something actually _called _a 'Heartless.'"

"Regrettably, no," Leon explained. "The Heartless used to be people, but the darkness in their hearts consumed them, and they became void of emotion and understanding. They are now monsters of darkness whose only instinct is to corrupt other hearts."

"Sounds like a certain rabbit I met earlier," Ian muttered under his breath.

"What?"

"Nothing, please, continue."

"These Heartless," Leon went on, "Have been scouring the worlds, wreaking havoc and mayhem. They destroyed my own world, as well as the worlds of many others. Several survivors of these catastrophes ended up here, in Traverse Town, which has become a sort of refugee camp for them."

"Okay," Ian said. "But what does that have to do with me and this Keyblade?"

"This town _used _to be a safe haven for those of us who had lost our worlds to the Heartless," Leon finished. "But slowly the Heartless found their way into this world too. The people here had a hard enough time surviving the deaths of their own worlds—I doubt they could survive the death of this one too. Thankfully, some of the survivors from my own world and I have been able to keep things relatively under control.

"Until recently."

"What happened recently?" Ian asked, his curiosity picking up as Leon told more of his story. As an outdoorsmen, Ian was fascinated by all kinds of survival stories, and this was shaping up to be one of this most unique he'd ever heard.

"Recently a new kind of Heartless has begun showing up, and things are beginning to get out of control. The people are scared, and even the seasoned warriors from my home world are running out of ways to keep the new enemies back. But, with your Keyblade, I believe that you might not only be able to keep them back, I think you'll be able to stop them all together."

"And if exterminate your homicidal pest problem, you'll help me find Claire?" Ian clarified.

"I'll lend you the best bloodhound we have to help you find her," Leon agreed.

"well, then," Ian said, holding up his Keyblade in readiness. "Let's get started!"

**. . .**


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter-o 11-o

"I knew your name… because…" Kattus said, his mind racing.

_ This is insane_! Kattus thought. _I'm talking to Woody in _Toy Story!

But that wasn't the only thing on Kattus' mind, though meeting one of his favorite Disney characters was rather intriguing.

_If we didn't know about these other 'worlds' back on Earth_, Kattus thought. _Then maybe the toys don't know about other worlds either_. _I should probably keep that whole 'I'm from another world' thing silent until I know for sure what they're already aware of; don't want them to think I'm crazy if I want their help finding Claire_.

"Hello!" Woody called into Kattus' ear, startling him out of his thoughts. "Earth to new toy!"

"Sorry," Kattus said. "Wait! Where's my Keyblade?"

"Your key-what?" Woody asked, looking like he was starting to think Kattus was crazy after all.

"It's—it's my weapon—"

"Oh, I get it!" Woody laughed. "You must be one of those newfangled action figures, just like the 'space ranger!'"

"Uh, sure," Kattus agreed. Then, remembering Claire, he said "Wait! Have you seen a girl around here named Claire?"

"Oh, come on!" Woody sarcastically wailed. "You come with a weapon _and _a girl! Andy just got the whole Christmas package when his parents bought you, didn't he?"

Unable to help himself any longer, Kattus yelled "I'm not a toy!" over Woody's rambling.

"That's it, I'm through!" Woody exasperated. "You're just like Buzz bite-year over there in the corner, trying to fix his 'space ship' packaging!"

Woody jerked his thumb over his shoulder as he made his way to the edge of Andy's bed and jumped down.

"Hey Buzz, I found a playmate for you! You _both _think you're real!" the consternated cowboy called in the direction he had pointed before disappearing under the bed. "Come on, guys! We've got to call a staff meeting about these new toys!"

"Buzz Lightyear?" Kattus said excitedly, looking in the direction Woody had just pointed. Rushing eagerly over to the side of the bed, Kattus stopped himself just in time to avoid falling over the edge. What had looked like a mild drop from before was now a teetering, cushiony skyscraper. "Wait, how am I supposed to get down if I'm six inches tall?"

Woody didn't seem to have had a problem with getting down, but then again, _he _actually _was _a toy, and could probably handle such jumps with relative ease. Kattus, still human despite his diminutive size in this world, would have to try a different approach.

Spying the bedpost, Kattus raced over with a leap and a bound on the springy surface of Andy's bed and grabbed ahold of the wooden frame, spinning around it as he slid down to the floor like a fireman down his emergency pole.

"I'll have to try that again before I leave," Kattus said to himself when he touched down on the hardwood floor, adrenaline pumping from the rapid travel. "But first things first…"

Seeing Buzz Lightyear again off in his corner of the room where a gaggle of the other toys were admiring his repair work on the box he had come in, all ignoring Woody's call for a 'staff meeting,' Kattus raced over to see his favorite Disney character in real life.

"…and with another bonding strip, this cardboard-ium alloy should be ready for interstellar travel at warp speeds in not time!" explained the intrepid space ranger, applying another piece of scotch tape to his badly torn cardboard spaceship-style package. "There we are, good as new!"

"Wow, Mr. Buzz," said Rex, the memorable gentle giant and plastic green tyrannosaur. "Where are you gonna fly to?"

"Wherever I can pick up my signal from Star Command again, and after that, who knows?" Buzz explained, eyeing his newly repaired 'spaceship' with pride. "I'll most likely be sent on yet another mission to track down and foil the plot of the evil emperor Zurg!"

"Hey, need a copilot?" asked Ham, the plastic pink piggy bank.

"No can do talking swine," Buzz replied, sliding into his spaceship and pushing what Kattus could only assume were supposed to be buttons on this inside. "Star Command operatives only inside the space vehicle."

_This must be pretty early in the movie_, Kattus surmised. _Buzz just arrived, and still thinks he's a real space ranger_!

"Now everyone, please stand back for the launch," Buzz announced. "10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1…

"1…

"1…

"_1_…!"

Buzz suddenly opened his eyes from where he'd had them shut tight, probably in preparation for the thrust he expected to rattle through the ship during takeoff.

"I don't understand it!" Buzz suddenly said, popping out of the packaging and checking the pieces of cardboard that were supposed to be rockets. "Why won't she _fly_?"

"Maybe your mechanic skills ain't as fine as your fancy flying," remarked Mr. Potato Head, the walking, talking spud.

"Impossible," replied Buzz, inspecting the ship thoroughly. "I got top marks for my mechanic skills during the training simulation at Star Command."

"Maybe you're out of fuel," Kattus shouted, from the back of the crowd of toys, having made his way over to where they were admiring Buzz's handiwork.

"That's it!" exclaimed Buzz having a eureka moment. "Who said that? They obviously know something about spaceflight!"

"I did," Kattus called out again, and the toys moved to the side to get a better view of their newcomer. "Hey everybody, it's great to meet all of you! I'm a big fan."

"No you're not," said Rex, confused. "You look more like one of those new action figures to me!"

"No, you idiot!" scolded Mr. Potato Head. "He means he's a fan of _us_. Now me, I can understand—but why would he be a fan you of _you _guys?"

"Never mind that now tuberous root man," Buzz said happily, walking up to Kattus. "You, humanoid, you suggested that my ship was out of fuel—do you know where I could get any?"

"Um, I guess I could help you find some," Kattus chuckled, thinking that with Buzz's way of imaginary thinking all he would have to do is pick up some random supplies from around Andy's room and call it fuel. "But first, I really need to be looking for a girl. Have any of you seen a girl around here? Named Claire?"

"Doesn't ring a bell," Rex apologized.

"Ooh, a sweetheart accessory," mused Ham.

"She's not; she's my friend's little sister," Kattus explained. "She was kidnapped, and my friends and I are looking for her."

"A kidnapping?" Buzz gasped. "This sounds like the work of the evil emperor Zurg! If I only had some fuel for my space ship, I could use it to fly around this alien world you strange life forms call 'Andy's Room' and help this humanoid here locate the kidnapped Claire!"

"You'd really help me look for her? 'Cause that'd be much awesome," Kattus said thankfully. "With your guys knowledge of this world—I mean, Andy's Room—we should be able to locate her in no time! If she's here, of course…"

"Of course!" Buzz smiled. "A space ranger's sworn duty is to serve and protect. But still, I need my rocket fuel; I'll help you look for this Claire as soon as I can locate some fuel!"

"We'll help you look for some fuel," chimed in the other toys, eager to join in the new toy's space fantasies.

_I was afraid he'd say that_, Kattus thought. _If Buzz wants fuel before he'll help me look, then I'll have to find something that'll actually make his spaceship fly_!

**. . .**


	12. Chapter 12

©hapter 12

As the dark mists enveloping the base of the castle (and indeed, most of the world) Claire had just exited welcomed her with their cold, wet embrace, scents of paint and some acidic stink assaulted her nose.

"What _is _that?" Claire coughed, half-wishing she had stayed back up in the castle on the mountain with the cartoon gremlin. But a moment later, the mists parted to reveal a mountain made of—

"Junk?" Claire wondered aloud. "What kind of a place is this?"

First, a floating cartoon gremlin—whatever _that_ was—and now a mountain made of junk. Was this some kind of cartoon waste dump?

Then, as she got close to the mountain, Claire saw that all of the junk making it up was entirely crafted out of Mickey Mouse-related paraphernalia.

"Ethan would _love _this place," Claire muttered. "Though I don't think either one of us would like the smell."

Even though she was out of the clouds, the smell at the top of this cliff-like mountain was appalling. Looking down, Claire could see that the scent was wafting up from not only the decaying junk, but pools of sickly green acid and weird bluish goop.

"Gross," Claire said. "Wait, if I don't like it here, why not just leave?"

With a snap of her fingers, Claire waited for the familiar feeling of a portal opening to appear…

…But it didn't.

"What?"

Claire realized that her ability must be worn out from all the portals Oswald had forced her to open back in Disney Castle. Until it recharged, it looked like she was stuck in this Wasteland.

**. . .**

"Want to make her mad?" whispered a voice in Ethan's ear. "It's lots of fun!"

"Normally I'd agree with you," Ethan whispered absentmindedly back. "But the heart-shaped spears make the endeavor look a little less inviting."

"Suit yourself," whispered the voice back.

"Wait, what?" Ethan gasped, realizing that someone had actually been beside him…or had they? Because when Ethan darted his eyes to the direction the sound had come from, he saw nothing but the dark, empty forest. "Hold on a minute, Ethan. This is _Wonderland_. Things aren't _supposed _to make sense. Either embrace the chaos or be driven mad by it."

Adopting this philosophy to save his own sanity, much like Alice herself failed to do when she was almost driven into an asylum state in the original 1950s Disney film, it came as no surprise to Ethan when a purple-and-pink striped cat appeared over the Queen of Hearts' head.

_Haha, that's the Cheshire Cat_! _It must have been him who was talking to me just now, _Ethan thought, happy to see his favorite character in all of fictional literature. The book version had been his favorite—it _was _the original, after all—but the movie had done a pretty good interpretation. _Wait, what's he doing_? _Oh, no_.

True to his word, the Cheshire Cat was indeed planning on making the Queen of Hearts mad. Ethan would have probably done so as well, if it wouldn't spell his death certificate—which the cat could happily avoid with his disappearing powers.

"Wait! Don't!" Ethan mouthed, catching the cat's eye as the feline began to lift the queen's crown off her head.

"Why not?" the cat mouthed back. "You know, you need to lighten up a little. Pull a prank or two—just like this one!"

With that, the cat tossed the crown at Ethan, who caught it instinctively.

_Oh, no_! Ethan thought, on the brink of panic. If he wanted to keep his head and his neck a happily married couple, then he was going to have to do some quick thinking.

As if to ensure this, the Cheshire Cat suddenly called out "Haha! I've stolen the queen's crown!" before disappearing.

"Who said that?" the Queen of Hearts blurted uproariously. "Wait—my crown _is _gone! Find it! FIND IT AT ONCE!"

Instantly the card soldiers scattered in all directions—including the four that were holding up her mobile throne, letting the queen drop unceremoniously to the ground with a loud and comical "Oof!"

Ethan could almost swear he heard the Cheshire Cat guffawing somewhere in the trees behind.

"Where's the crown?"

"Find the crown!"

"Paint the roses red! I mean, the crown, where's the crown!"

The card soldiers rushed around in a stupefied fury, bumping into each other and making Ethan cup his hand over his mouth to avoid being heard laughing at them from his hiding spot in the bushes. When one of the card soldiers collided with a comrade at the front of a long line of searchers, causing them all to fall over in a domino effect, Ethan could contain himself no longer., and burst out laughing.

"Wait!" screamed the Queen of Hearts. "Where's that infernal racket coming from!"

The card soldiers quickly located Ethan hiding in the bushes, and yanked him out by both arms. Despite the potentially mortal danger he was now in, Ethan still couldn't help but laugh.

"Silence!" shouted the queen in Ethan's face when he had been brought before her, but Ethan could do nothing to prevent himself from at least giggling at the sight of the other card soldiers lining up behind the queen and tripping over themselves multiple times as they did so.

The Queen of Heart's face got as red as the organ she represented, and only then did Ethan's laughing simmer down.

"What is the meaning of this?" the queen demanded, pointing to the crown Ethan found he was still holding. The queen reached forward and snatched it back, placing it firmly on her head. "You stole my crown!"

"No I didn't," Ethan said, suddenly straight faced again. _Remember—this is Wonderland, things aren't _supposed _to make sense_! _Use Wonderland logic_! "I was giving it back to you—as an unbirthday present!"

"Really?" inquired the Queen of Hearts, he brow lifting suspiciously, though she seemed considerably less angry now than when she had started her rant. "But it's not my _un_birthday—it's my birthday!"

"Then it's a birthday present!"

"You really don't know anything about birthdays or unbirthdays if you think you can really make me believe that you weren't stealing my crown!" the queen raged.

"Alright, I admit it," Ethan went on. "I know absolutely nothing whatever about unbirthdays."

"Captain!" announced the queen, a smile breaking out on her fat face.

"Yes, my liege!" replied an Ace of Hearts card soldier, reporting for duty with a salute.

"Make this young man a courtesan at my castle—he's an expert on unbirthdays!"

"But my liege," the card soldier began, confused. "He just said that he _doesn't _know anything about unbirthdays—"

"WHICH IS WHAT MAKES HIM AN EXPERT, IDIOT!" the queen bellowed in the card soldier's ear. "NOW MAKE HIM A COURTESAN AT ONCE!"

"Yes my liege," squeaked the card soldier in fear, taking out his heart-shaped spear and tapping it once on both of Ethan's shoulders. "You are now the Queen of Heart's royal expert on unbirthdays."

"Thank you," Ethan grinned, much like the Cheshire Cat who had gotten into this whole mess that was not wondrously turning out to his advantage. "But, my liege, there is a request I would like to make."

"And that is, new courtesan?"

"I am looking for my little sister Claire, who was kidnapped by a most vile miscreant, and not the good kind of vile miscreant," Ethan requested. "I would be honored if you could tell me if you have heard anything about her whereabouts."

"I have heard absolutely everything about her whereabouts," the queen replied.

_Darn, she doesn't know anything_, Ethan thought.

"But since you have proven your expert knowledge in unbirthdays, I do not grant you a horse and a platoon of my finest card soldiers to look for this little sister of yours."

"Shove it up yours, my liege," Ethan said, making the queen smile at his politeness.

_This Wonderland logic is easier than I thought_, Ethan said to himself happily.

"But only not on one condition," the queen interjected into Ethan's musings.

"Yes?"

"Before I give you the proper resources to find a missing person you're looking for," the Queen of Hearts explained. "I want you to find on your own without any resources a missing person you're not searching for."

"Oh," Ethan said. "I should've known there'd be a catch, you old fart."

"Isn't he so polite?" chimed the queen to the Ace of Hearts.

"But my liege, he just—"

"SILENCE, RUDE CARD!"

"Please forgive me, my liege."

"Now, courtesan, I want you to find a little girl named Alice—I fear she has stolen my tarts, and I want her brought to justice."

Ethan paused before answering to think for a moment. On the one hand, Alice would most certainly be beheaded if the Queen of Hearts got ahold of her, though Ethan knew from the movie and the book that she was innocent of any crimes in Wonderland. On the other hand, even with the mixed-up logic of this world, looking for Claire with the help of the Queen of Hearts would greatly increase the chance of actually finding her, if she was in Wonderland at all.

_I guess I could always use Wonderland logic to get the queen to postpone_ _Alice's trial until _after _I found Claire, and then I could get Claire to help me clear Alice's name_, Ethan thought.

"Very well," Ethan said. "I'll not maybe shouldn't possibly probably find this so-called 'Alice,' you big fatty."

"Splendid!" the queen shouted.

**. . .**

5


	13. Chapter 13

C_h_a_p_t_e_r_1_3

"So now what do I do?" Claire wondered bleakly, scanning her surroundings for any sign of possible shelter until her ability recharged. She saw nothing but the piles and piles of Mickey Mouse-related junk. "Well, at least the people who live here have an appropriate name for their home. _Wasteland_ is right."

_Squelch_.

"Huh?"

Claire paused for a moment, certain that she had just heard something. But, after listening intently for a few moments, her ears were met with nothing but the same eerie silence that had assaulted her hearing since arriving in Wasteland. Dismissing it uneasily as a case of frayed nerves and the weird environment, Claire continued forward towards the mountain.

_SQUELCH_.

Claire took off at a run, _certain _she had heard something _that _time. Whatever it was, it sounded big, and if it matched its surroundings, it was bound to be unpleasant.

The odd sound was picking up in intensity, as if whatever was making it had realized it had lost the element of secrecy and was now intent only on catching her. Try as she might, though, Claire couldn't seem to shake the noise.

_Squelch, sQuelch, sqUelch, squeLch, squelCh, squelcH_...

SQUELCH!

Claire screamed as the source of the noise leapt from the mist and bore down upon her.

**. . .**

"But first things first," Jack Skellington said, thinking aloud and tapping his skull. "Lock, Shock, and Barrel's recent failure has made me think of something—maybe you all need Christmas camouflage!"

"Christmas camouflage?" Nathan echoed, unsure.

"Exactly!" Jack exclaimed happily. "A disguise to help you and the troublesome trio here blend in with the Christmas Town folk."

"What did you have in mind?" Nathan asked as Jack led him and the trick-or-treating terrors out of the Town Hall and into the orange glow of the Halloween sun. Strolling across the Halloween Town Square, the quintet came to a tall building with a metallic spheroid on top, which Nathan recognized as the laboratory of the nefarious Dr. Finkelstein. "And what does the mad doctor have to do with this?"

"One of his latest inventions will be just the thing to get you guys looking like regular Christmas townies," Jack explained, ringing the screaming doorbell to Dr. Finkelstein's abode. After a few impatient moments, the mad doctor himself opened the creaking old metal door.

"What do you want—" he demanded, before realizing who had come a-calling and quickly readjusting the conversation with "Jack, my boy! What ever can I do for you? I was just putting the finishing touches on your flying reindeer. Come by to check on the progress?"

"Not quite Dr. Finkelstein," Jack said. "We're hoping you can whip up some Christmas Town garb for our Sandy Claws retrieval team here with your costume machine."

"The machine is calibrated only to Halloween-related wear," the mad doctor mused, opening the hatch in his head to scratch his brain in thought. "But I'm sure a few adjustments would give you just what you're looking for."

"Excellent!"

"Follow me, please."

Nathan looked around in awe as the mad doctor led the group upstairs into the main laboratory, where Sally, the patchwork creation of Dr. Finkelstein, was sitting on a bench, sewing something long and red with white ruffles.

"The Sandy Claws costume looks like it's coming along splendidly!" Jack commented, startling Sally.

"Oh, Jack! I didn't know you were coming—"

"I'm afraid I can't stay long," Jack interrupted. "My new friend here is going to make sure we get the real Sandy Claws this time, and we need some Christmas-y disguises."

"But I'm still not finished with your coat—"

"Not to worry," Jack explained, striding up to a tall mechanism that looked like a sinister cross between a refrigerator and a medieval torture device. "Dr. Finkelstein has allowed us the use of his marvelous costume machine!"

"Just a few adjustments…" the doctor himself was muttering as he fidgeted with a large monkey wrench inside a removed panel at the side of the machine. "There! It should now produce Christmas wear. I've calibrated it based on the Christmas paraphernalia you brought me to study, and I believe it shall work quite nicely."

"Splendid!" Jack exclaimed. "And I'm sure you worked out the fire hazard from the last few runs."

"Fire hazard?" Nathan said nervously.

"Nothing to worry about," Dr. Finkelstein reassured. "The last few test subjects only received second degree burns, nothing more serious than a simple skin melting or two."

"What?"

"In you go!" Jack said excitedly, pushing Nathan into the machine before the young man could protest further. With a slam of the door and a whirr of lights and sounds, Nathan experienced something akin to what socks must go through during the spin cycle in a washing machine.

After a few seconds that seemed more like stomach-wrenching hours, the door _pinged _open just like the washing machine it reminded Nathan of and Jack pulled the young man back out before tossing Lock, Shock, and Barrel in all at once, each protesting just as much a Nathan had.

"Wow!" Jack exclaimed. "It's even better than I imagined!"

"Indeed," Dr. Finkelstein agreed. "Once again, it is proven that I am a genius."

Nathan walked over to a mirror at the far end of the laboratory to inspect whatever crazy costume the mad doctor's machine had clothed him with, and was just as stunned as Jack and Dr. Finkelstein had been. Nathan now wore a long cloak that furled out like a Christmas tree at the bottom, complete with the proper green-and-red color scheme and even flashing lights. Much of the rest of the cloak, however (save the hood, which resembled the top of said Christmas tree as much as it did the hood of the Grim Reaper) was a dark black with orange pockets and red tears, as if some monster had had a bloody brawl with the wearer.

_Wow_! Nathan thought. _I think I could get used to this_. _Just my style—macabre, but in a funny sort of way_.

(AUTHOR'S NOTE—THIS DESIGN CAN ACTUALLY BE SEEN AT .Com!)

_Now, if only I could find my Keyblade _and _Claire_…

Even though Nathan had only wielded the Keyblade for a few moments, it had somehow felt right, like a long forgotten friend returning. Nathan's main concern here was finding Claire, but it _would _be nice to bring the Keyblade home as well. God knew it would be helpful in the basic training combat simulations he'd have to be taking when he joined the military.

_If I ever _do _find Claire and get back home_, _that is_… Nathan thought worriedly. Wait, where had _that _come from. He didn't really think this whole mess might end up with him never returning home, did he…?

_Best not to think like that_, Nathan surmised.

"Alright," Nathan said. "Let's go get 'Sandy Claws!'"

A little while later, Nathan, Lock, Shock, and Barrel were racing though the graveyard in the trick-or-treater's walking (now, more like running) bathtub. One of the pint-sized perils swiped out with a hand to hit the grave-switch that would uncurl the Curly Hill, and the bathtub expertly navigated the bridge.

"So, any plans for how we're going to get Santa Claus to come with us?" Nathan asked the group.

"I hear he uses a big old sack to carry around those 'present' things," said one.

"Maybe we should use a sack too," said another.

"But instead of just bagging him," said the third. "We'll also be bagging _you_!"

"What?" Nathan said, but before he knew what was happening Lock, Shock, and Barrel had jumped up and covered the youth with a burlap sack. Nathan struggled to break free, but the bag was tougher than it looked, and even now the troublesome three were tying the bag up at the end. "Wait! Why are you doing this?"

"Because _we're _the ones who are gonna be heroes for getting Sandy Claws, not _you_!"

"And even if Jack wants you to be in charge of this operation, we don't take orders from _anybody_!"

"Except Oogie Boogie… which is where we're taking you right now!"

"What?"

But again, before Nathan could act he felt himself being thrown roughly down some kind of tube, slamming into the cold metal sides at every painful turn.

"Wait!" Nathan called. "Don't do this! Jack will be mad if you guys come back without me, and then you'll be sorry!"

"We'll just say you got tangled up in some 'Christmas lights,'" One of the trick-or-treaters giggled, and Nathan could just here their bathtub speeding off into the Hinterlands, towards the holiday doors without him, as he hit rock bottom.

"Well, well, well," bellowed a familiar voice. "What have we here?"

"You have a big problem if you don't let me out of this sack!" Nathan said, still trying to wriggle his way out of the bag.

"I'd be delighted to," said the voice. "Besides, I've been _dying _to have a second player at my little game!"

"Game?" Nathan said. "Wait, oh no…"

The sack was abruptly pulled off of Nathan to reveal Oogie Boogie, the bag of bugs himself. Tossing a handful of blood-red dice in the air, Oogie laughed at the sight of his next victim and said "First, I think we'll play Reaper Roulette!"

Oogie then pushed Nathan backwards into a small round arena of flashing lighted panels, all displaying gambling symbols such as dice and the four houses of cards. The arena was dominated from one side by a large rectangular contraption that looked like an oversized slot machine, complete with the pull-down arm and three rolling panels—only the symbols displayed here were different methods of death, from chainsaws to skulls and cross-bones, and the pull-down arm was the Grim Reaper's scythe.

Oogie, who was still standing on the side of the arena, safe behind a spiked fence he'd raised up to keep Nathan from escaping, then pushed the pull-down arm from behind. This made the display panels on the slot machine roll their deadly possibilities, each more gruesome than the last.

Oogie began to laugh, contemplating his victim's fate. As the slot machine began to select a cause of death, the bag of bugs chuckled "Feeling lucky?"

**. . .**


	14. Chapter 14

Apter-che teen-four-e

Claire was running, running from the monster. It had leapt out at her from the mist, a towering mass of oozing ink that smelled of the sickly acidic mists and pools littering the land. Tendrils of slime connected its upper and lower jaw whenever it roared, and glowing green eyes hinted after Claire hungrily whenever the monster had her in its sights.

Which Claire was careful to make sure happened as few times as possible. She had been running, jumping, and dodging out of the way to ensure that she put as much junk-filled distance between her and the slime-creature as she could.

But Claire hadn't lost it yet, and the monster seemed tireless. Claire was in excellent shape from swimming, but the monster seemed like it was incapable of fatigue, and she knew she would tire out long before it did.

_What _is _that thing_? Claire thought hurriedly. _And how do I lose it_?

It turned out she wouldn't have to.

With an ear-piercing war-cry, a small black figure, even darker than the blob-like monster that was chasing Claire, leapt from the shadows and onto the creature's head. With a flash of steel the monster's head was off, and it dissolved into a puddle of the black liquid the thing seemed to be made of. Without its head, the body did the same, soon becoming little more than a pond of putrid tar.

Claire stopped a moment when she was sure the monster was truly dead, finally able to catch her breath. Backtracking wearily, Claire gave the twin pools of black ooze wide berths until she was behind the shadowy figure who had saved her life.

"Thank you," Claire said graciously. "I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't shown up. That was amazing the way you sliced off his head like that!"

"Thank you," the figure said, turning around, causing Claire to scream again—for the being before her she saw as more of a monster than the blob had ever been.

**. . .**

"So, new comrade," Buzz asked as he and Kattus walked across Andy's room. "Where do we find fuel on this alien planet?"

"I was thinking that if it's anywhere, it's beyond there," Kattus replied, pointing to the door.

"Capital idea!" Buzz explained. "Rocket fuel would logically be stored in a sealed-off compartment, away from the living quarters."

"Uh, yeah…"

_Where am I going to find something to make Buzz's ship actually fly_? Kattus thought. The martial arts master was used to sending his _opponents _flying during one of their sparring matches, but never something this disproportionately large.

Kattus slipped out the door to Andy's room, Buzz following close behind him. Outside, soft sunlight drifted in through the window above the front door, bathing the landing in a warm glow. Kattus strolled along it towards the stairs, although he had no particular destination in mind other than outside Andy's room, wondering how on Earth he would be able to make Buzz's ship fly, when a shadow crossed over him.

"What manner of space-monster is _that_?" Buzz gasped, leaping into a battle stance and aiming his laser at the object casting the shadow. Kattus laughed when he saw that it was a party balloon, probably drifted up from Andy's birthday bash downstairs.

"That's it!" Kattus exclaimed. "Buzz, I know how to make your ship fly!"

"That's great!" Buzz said, not taking his eyes off of the balloon. "But first, let me slay this space-monster, and then we can get the rocket fuel."

"No," Kattus laughed. "Forget the rocket fuel—that 'space-monster' is how we're going to make your ship fly!"

"What do you mean?"

"First of all, it's not a monster," Kattus tried to explain, though the space ranger didn't seem convinced that something able of moving wasn't out to kill him on what he believed to be a 'hostile, alien world' (which in many ways it very well could have been, but only to Kattus, who _was _an alien here). "It's a balloon."

"Really?" Buzz said, finally taking his laser off of the bobbing spheroid, which was now lazily drifting into a corner of the ceiling. "But how do we get it down?"

"I'm guessing that one's lost," Kattus admitted. "But there should be plenty more downstairs at the party."

"Downstairs at the party?"

"I mean, in the lower level of this fortress of giants—but you can't let them see you," Kattus was sure to add. "Or they'll…they'll rip apart and eat you."

"Ah! Sounds like a routine mission for yours truly," Buzz said happily, sounding like he was finally experiencing something familiar. "A quick search-and-retrieve reconnaissance mission. Piece of cake!"

"Mm, cake," Kattus mused. "I wonder if any is left…"

"What?"

"Oh, nothing," Kattus smiled. "Now we just need to find a way to get down to the lower level."

"Not a problem!" Buzz announced, hitting a button on his armor that sprung open his wings. "I can fly us there!"

"Uh, let's try something else—don't want them to spot us in the air," Kattus stopped him short. He remembered that Buzz shouldn't learn he wasn't able to fly until later in the movie. "Like these giant stairs over here! We can just jump down them one at a time, and then ride the balloons back up to the top."

"Affirmative," Buzz confirmed.

Kattus raced over to the stairs and, after checking through the landing railing to see that no ordinary humans were coming their way, hopped down the first step. Buzz followed close behind, and the two quickly picked up the rhythm of jumping from one step to the next until, at the very bottom, Kattus paused a moment to catch his breath.

"And I thought the stairs in a standard home were _short_," Kattus panted, reflecting on how much longer the journey down stairs was when you were the size of an action figure.

"Good!" Buzz applauded as he touched down just behind Kattus, seeming as if he hadn't even broken a sweat. Which he hadn't, Kattus admonished—toys didn't have sweat glands. "We've reached the ground level. Now, where are those balloons?"

"If I'm right, they're in the dining room," Kattus replied. "Just follow the scent of birthday cake and candle wax."

Soon the two were creeping around the edge of the hall into the dining room, Kattus checking to make sure there were no ordinary humans about before giving Buzz the all-clear signal.

_Hopefully they're all playing outside or something_, Kattus thought. _But there's no telling when they'll be back_, _so Buzz and I better hurry_.

"Look, comrade!" Buzz said excitedly, pointing to the party balloons tied to the chairs surrounding the kitchen table. "Balloons!"

"Indeed," Kattus smiled. "But how do we untie them when we're this small? And how will we get them upstairs?"

"Leave that to me," Buzz said. The space ranger rushed over to the nearest chairs and swung his way up through the rungs between the legs onto the chair itself and then climbed the rest of the way to the top of the chair's back. From there Buzz began karate chopping the strings keeping the balloons tied to the chair, making Kattus shake his head at the poor form his new friend was using.

Kattus rushed over and began climbing up the chair himself, joining Buzz at the top.

"That's not how you chop something," Kattus instructed, falling back to his martial-arts teaching voice. "It's like this—and even if you did it right, I doubt the balloon string would break given their strength compared to our size. It's basically like a fully-sized human trying to snap a suspension bridge chord with his bare hands—we need something sharp to slice through these. If only I still had my Keyblade…"

Suddenly, in a flash of light, Kattus' Keyblade appeared in his hand.

"If I had known it was that easy, I would've used my Keyblade a long time ago," Kattus laughed aloud happily.

"Astounding!" Buzz gasped. "Instant materialization of weapons!"

"Now, _this _is how you slice a balloon string!" Kattus said, swinging his Keyblade at the base of the knot keeping the balloon and the chair tied together. With a _SCHWING_! The knot was no more, and Kattus had to grab hold of the balloon to keep it from floating away. It almost floated away anyway; Kattus' weight was barely enough to keep the balloon down.

"Amazing," Buzz admired. "Now, let's get the others!"

This process continued thrice more, Kattus and Buzz leaping from chair to chair and slicing off the balloons, each holding two and barely able to keep their feet on the ground as a result of it.

The balloon's newly severed string ends in hand, Kattus and Buzz made a long hop down from the chairs and sped back to the stairs. Going up was much easier than going down had been, as Kattus found he could hop up the stairs almost as if he was weightless.

Back in Andy's room, Kattus was happy to let the other toys tie the balloons to Buzz's space ship-packaging, which made the craft float with just enough rise to hold one or two occupants, as long as said occupants weren't intentionally keeping the ship grounded.

"I can't thank you enough for this, humanoid," Buzz said, shaking Kattus' hand vigorously. "Now we can properly start the search for Claire!"

**. . .**


	15. Chapter 15

Cha-cha-chapter 15

"It's—it's you!" Claire gasped, her feet poised to run at a moment's notice should the miniature monster before her made any sudden movements. "How did you find me?"

The figure standing atop the oozy remains of the inky creature merely cocked his head in confusion. "Yes, it is me. But what do you mean 'find you?' That would imply I was looking for you in the first place."

"What are you talking about?" Claire spat angrily. Then, raising a sly eyebrow she asked "Wait, if you weren't looking for me, then how do you explain your being here at the exact same moment I was?"

"I was up in my fortress when one of the card soldiers reported sighting a blotling," came the reply, the replier still looking as quizzical as ever as he stepped out of the gook of the dissolved creature and ventured closer to Claire. Having none of that, Claire hastily backed up. Seeing that he would get nowhere with that approach, the figure stopped where he was and continued. "And, this being my home, I naturally sought to defend it by slaying the blotling. You being here when I slew it was only consequence."

"Consequence?" Claire almost screamed. "_Consequence_? What kind of mind games are you trying to play, huh? You drag me halfway across _two _worlds and then dump me in this…this _Wasteland _and then expect me to believe that you really weren't just looking to capture me again?"

"Capture you again?" The blotling-slayer said, still dumbfounded. "What are _you _talking about? I've never seen you in my life! You must have me confused with someone else."

"That wouldn't be likely. Because I know who you are. You're _Oswald the Lucky Rabbit_!"

**. . .**

"So let me get this straight," sighed General Shang, as he had introduced himself when Amber suddenly appeared on the road before the marching Chinese army. After that Shang had set up camp as it was drawing near to twilight anyway, and taken Amber with a few of his most trusted soldiers inside his tent to question the girl. "You claim to be from another world?"

"And you don't believe me," Amber added. "I don't blame you; I wouldn't believe me either if I were you."

"But you're not me, and you're not a part of this army, and from what I can tell…" General Shang observed, noting Amber's light skin and decidedly non-Asian appearance, the likes of which he had never seen. "…not part of _China_, that makes you a potential spy for Shan-Yu."

"Shan-Yu?" echoed Amber. "You mean the bad guy who wants to take over China?"

"Of course," Shang said. "Although what confuses me most about your story—besides claiming to be from another world, that is—is not the fact that you seem to know the names of individual soldiers, as a spy would know, but that you keep calling private Ping here 'Mulan.'"

The General gestured to the gawky soldier over his left shoulder, who looked suddenly nervous.

"'Mulan' is a woman's name," Shang continued. "And _Ping _has more than proven himself to be a man."

"Of course she—I mean, he—has," Amber hastily agreed, not wanting to blow Mulan's cover before it was time. How she came to be in her favorite Disney movie she had no idea, but she certainly didn't want to mess it up. "From what I remember she received top marks in training. She even got the arrow from the top of the pole before anybody else could!"

"How did you know about that?" Shang demanded, growing impatient with the bizarrely accurate facts Amber seemed to know about the army's goings on. "Only a spy would know that! But then again, if you _are _a spy, then why are you telling us all this?"

Shang suddenly motioned for his top soldiers to follow him outside as he rose from his desk, leaving only a few inside to guard their prisoner. Once outside, Shang asked "What do you think, soldiers? What is she, and what do we do with her?"

"I think she's either the dumbest spy in history or completely bonkers," said Ling, a tall, lanky private.

"I think she looks like a harmless pedestrian caught up in our war," commented Po, a hulking bald combatant.

"I think we should leave her tied to a tree, just in case," suggested Yao, a short, surly soldier.

"Um… I think she's…" mumbled Ping, seemingly unable to come up with something to say. "Well, that is to say—maybe she _is _who she says she is."

This was met by a resounding round of laughter from the other soldiers. Ping laughed as well, halfheartedly.

"Really Ping, you are a most unconventional soldier," General Shang chuckled. "To think that she was a girl from another world, running around looking for the kidnapped sister of her friend, fighting off ghosts with a giant key!"

"Well, I know it sounds unlikely…"

"It sounds like a load of hooey!" Yao laughed. "So, where's the rope and which tree do we tie her to?"

"General!" shouted a sentry from the mobile watchtower erected around the camp. "We have hostiles approaching!"

"Sound the alarm!" Shang shouted back, drawing his sword. "You four, you're with me. Let's show these Huns why they should've never invaded China!"

"Ugh…" called the sentry once more. "That's just it, sir—they aren't Huns!"

"Then who are they?" Shang demanded. "They're—"

But the sentry never got a chance to finish his explanation, as with an eerily inhuman war-cry a dash of night sliced through the soldier, causing him to vanish into nothingness.

"What was _that_?" quavered Ling, his knees shaking.

"Maybe it really _is_—" ventured Po, also drawing his sword as Shang and the others got into a defensive position as the dash of night bounded towards them.

"No, don't even entertain the thought!" Shang cut Po off. "Now, _fight_!"

"Can I help?"

Shang nearly jumped out of his skin at the unexpected voice, as did the other four soldiers.

"How did you escape the guards?" Shang shouted at the sight of Amber, innocently standing in their midst as if arriving with the wind.

"Oh, they were no problem," Amber replied cheerily. "I heard the commotion outside and wanted to help, but they wouldn't let me leave the tent, so I whipped out my trusty Keyblade and, um, _persuaded _them to free me."

Amber raised her sparkling Keyblade for all to see.

"Where did you get that?"

"You didn't have that before!"

"You really _do _have a 'Keyblade!'"

"Never mind _that_!" Shang shouted angrily. "Ping, Po, escort the prisoner back to the tent—the rest of you, help me defend the camp from these—"

But before Shang could finish, the dash of night sprung up in his face and knocked him over, preparing to slice at the downed general with claws of shadow and malicious chuckle.

"No!" shouted Amber, and before the attacker could make mince-meat out of Shang, she darted forward at struck at the small but lethal creature with her Keyblade and just as quickly ended its life. The creature exploded in a puff of smoke.

"You…you saved my life!" Shang said, incredulous. "A spy of Shan-Yu wouldn't do that…"

"Told you I wasn't a spy," Amber smiled. "Now, would be ever so kind as to tell me if you've seen that girl Claire I mentioned earlier? And if you haven't I'd really appreciate it if you helped me look for her."

"Sir!" Yao interrupted Amber and Shang's conversation. "There's more of those—_things_ coming!"

"They're the ghost-cartoons I was telling you about," Amber explained. "Although I don't know what they're doing here. And wait… they all look like _Oswald_!"

"I don't know what a cartoon is or an Oswald," Shang said. "But you saved my life and earned my trust, and I am in your debt. If you help us defeat these…_ghost-cartoons_, then I will happily dispatch any of my soldiers to help you look for your missing comrade."

"Sure thing!" Amber replied, brandishing her Keyblade in readiness as a wave of Oswald-esque creatures poured over the walls of the camp.

4


End file.
